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Confident … and yet, indifferent.
I'm intrigued by the way she didn't fall over herself when we met. Most women do, but not her. She acted as if she didn't care if I was in the room or not.
I've never experienced that before.
And I had no idea she was so … hot. Those sharp stilettos, tight pencil skirt, and perfectly tailored blouse hugging her curves… now there's a woman who knows what she's doing. Her business acumen is enviable, and she knows how to command a room better than any woman I've ever met.
The more I think about it, the more it dawns on me that she'd make an interesting conquest. What man wouldn't want to conquer something like that? But then again, it's probably best that she's not in this game.
Why am I still thinking about her anyways?
I never think about a single woman this much. I can hardly remember a woman's name, let alone a face. And now I'm obsessing over one.
So, why Athena?
Why now?
It bothers me a little bit that I'm even fucking thinking about her this much, after just one, brief encounter. I don't like the thought of a woman getting under my skin, especially now. Not like this. I need to keep a cool, clear head to win this fucking game.
But honestly, I'm not worried.
"Maybe I'll see you around?" Stacey says, her voice thick with hope. I almost forgot that she was still here. She has her purse slung over one shoulder, and is nearly out the door.
"Sure doll," I say. "Maybe."
But even she recognizes that as a lie
, and without another sound, she steps out the door, closing it behind her.
In her silent absence, I wonder if I'm even capable of falling in love.
But I shake that thought from my brain like flicking ants off of a picnic blanket.
It's a nuisance following those thoughts.
It's not fucking worth my time.
This is about business, and right now, my ass is on the line. My future wealth depends on it. It's the difference between the penthouse suite and a cardboard box, remember?
I'm looking for money, not love. It's really that fucking simple.
At this point, I'm halfway though the game, with only a couple of months to go.
50 days down, and 50 more to go.
I'm in the home stretch, baby. I can smell the money.
5
Athena
Well, I was right—Malcolm's trouble. I threw the best girls I had on file at him, and he still didn’t take the bait. And when I mean the best girls, I really mean it—they were all smart, witty, and beautiful. Malcolm didn’t even bat an eye before sending them back. I mean, he didn’t even fuck any of them; the farthest he went was receiving a blowjob. The man is a challenge, but what else was I expecting from someone like him? The moment I saw him for the first time, I knew right away that he was a hard man when it came to matters of the heart. Sure, he has a reputation when it comes to sleeping with beautiful woman, but I don’t think anyone on Earth has ever heard of Malcolm falling in love.
Which is a pity, really. If Malcolm was a serious guy capable of love, I’m pretty sure he’d make some lucky woman very, very happy. At least between the sheets. I mean, when it comes to looks, the man is perfect, and I’ve only seen him inside a suit. God, I can’t help but wonder how he’d look outside a suit, wearing nothing but a layer of muscles, his cock hard and ready to …
What the hell am I even saying? I need to keep my head between my shoulders, not have it rolling around in the gutter. “Jesus, this is bad,” I say as I go through the documents in front of me, briefings detailing the women I have on file. After throwing my best ones at Malcolm, I’m slowly starting to run out of options.
And this happened fast. “He’s that notorious troublemaker, right? Malcolm Bane?” Julia asks me, sitting on my desk and folding her legs as she looks down at the documents in front of me.
